Promise you'll forget
by dormammu
Summary: The war was over and Steve was alive. For Tony, that was all that mattered. (Warning: character death)
First thing Tony noticed as he got out of his car was how awful Steve looked. His face was pale and his hair unusually, alarmingly unkempt. Not that he expected Steve to look like a million dollars on the day of his trial, but this was breathtaking in all the wrong ways.

He surreptitiously looked at Steve's face while he was being paraded in front of the court, handcuffed, in his Captain America uniform, each time feeling a part of his heart break away. He never wanted this to happen. But, he thought for the umpteenth time, this Captain America Circus was better than a Captain America's funeral.

No matter how much he rationalized it to himself though, the guilt he felt was overwhelming. The guilt and an incredible grief he felt for the loss of their friendship, because he knew Steve and he were done after this. Forever.

But Tony had come to one resolution some time ago: if the price of Steve Rogers staying on this Earth was Steve's hatred or, even worse, Steve's indifference to him, that was a price he was willing to pay. Now it was only left for his heart to learn not to shatter every time he remembered that resolution. And for Tony to finally forget. They had both promised to forget. Steve seemed to keep the promise. He always did that.

That day they drove to a hotel in his vintage Aston Martin, a car he mostly kept as an eye-candy but that time he figured Steve's jealous sighs would be worth the nuisance of dirtying up his favorite old-timer. That was what he convinced himself it was all about, not driving Steve in style to the place of their "new beginning".

It was supposed to be, it was, a one time thing. Another one of Tony's monumentally stupid ideas.

"You know what would be the best way to get rid of all this animosity?" he had said with an extra sleazy grin on his face after one of their countless shouting matches. It was supposed to be a joke, he never dreamed Steve would take him up on it.

He did.

In the end, their little "experiment" lasted one entire weekend.

So many times Tony thought that maybe that was the beginning of their end. It couldn't have been however. After... it happened, they were good. More than good! It was surprisingly easy for Tony not to think about it. To simply forget, just as they had promised. Steve seemingly came to the same conclusion. It actually marked the beginning of their friendship, against all odds. In fact, Steve proved to be a great friend, much better in that role than the one of an antagonistic colleague who splits logs with the power of being pissed at Tony. Which was ever more an incentive to forget. So Tony did.

Until the war. Until he lost the friend-Steve. Then it all started coming back, in crystal clear HD, surround sound. Everything they had done to "let off steam" that weekend: each one of Steve's fevered looks, contrasted to the way he looked at him from the other side of the battlefield. The way they had agreed they wouldn't kiss but Tony forgot himself and Steve liked it and wouldn't stop, contrasted to anger and disappointment. All the things he had babbled while clenching around Tony, while being inside Tony, compared to all the hatred his one look would convey.

"Just once, Tony. We never tell a living soul and afterwards we both forget it ever happened, promise?"

"I pinky promise to forget everything," Tony had said, smiling, proffering his little finger to Steve, thinking that forgetting would be a cakewalk, looking forward instead to everything he was about to do to Captain Buzzkill, all the things he was going to make Steve do to him. Steve shook his hand awkwardly before walking off to his room to pack some things.

Constantly remembering what he had vowed to forget had one upside though: it helped him in those moments of doubt, when he wanted to put a stop to everything, to crawl on his knees in front of Steve and tell him that he changed his mind, everything can go to hell, he needs him by his side and will do anything to have him back. He would let all the pictures flood him and he would lie to himself: if only he prevails, who knows, maybe one day he could have all that again, they could find a way, he just needs to be strong, it will all work out, and he knows he is right about the Accords, in time it will all play out and Steve will still be there as well as Tony. Who knows what could happen? On and on it would go until all the thoughts of stopping were replaced by that second kiss they had both wanted, or the way Steve's face looked as Tony prepared himself for him for the first time, or the memory of that one spot they discovered drove Steve crazy when lightly touched. A single mental image and one big lie would be enough.

Tony had realized some time ago that he basically trained himself to replace even the smallest doubt with such a lie. Why else was he invoking all those images, the memories, now, while watching Steve's defeated form and blank face as he was led by uniformed men up the steps of the courthouse? But this time the lie crumbled, faced with a living, breathing Steve. He would never have anything of his again.

The "living, breathing" part _was_ good enough, Tony reasoned once more with himself.

Then he heard it. A shot sounded from somewhere in the distance. Another one and Steve was falling. A commotion, people yelling as Tony mindlessly ran as fast as he could toward Steve, yelling "No, no, please no!"

In seconds he reached him. There was so much blood all over Steve. He tried to stop the flow by placing a hand on the more severe wound. "Please Steve," he said. "Please, hang on!"

Steve looked at him, coughing, there was blood coming out of his mouth. "Tony?"

He seemed surprised. Why was he surprised?

"Please Steve," and Tony could feel his face become more and more wet. "Please, I didn't... I never..."

Steve coughed again, more blood trickling out, and yet he was trying to speak.

"Me.. neither, Tony... never..." he said feebly.

His eyes focused on Tony one more time as he exhaled his last breath, a weak smile forever frozen on his lips.


End file.
